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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29013012">watching stars collide</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/asteleah/pseuds/asteleah'>asteleah</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canon Compliant, Getting Together, High School, Idiots in Love, Iwaizumi Hajime is Bad at Feelings, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, i don't know how this ended up being almost 11k, that's why</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:53:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,943</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29013012</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/asteleah/pseuds/asteleah</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>It was a miraculous thing that he couldn’t resist kissing Oikawa at that moment. He was surprised it wasn’t messy with more clashes of teeth and clumsy tongues, a complete turmoil of mistakes and regrets. Then he remembered it was Oikawa and Iwaizumi. Hajime and Tooru. Everything had always been so easy with them. </p>
  <p>Maybe that would change, but neither wanted to dwell on that. Instead, they obsessively and endlessly, with a maddening longing, leaned into each other, knowing that they will fall further until they are invincible and ethereal and <i>weak</i>, still and all.<br/></p>
</blockquote>or: in which Iwaizumi acts on his impetuous thoughts and deals with the not-so-disappointing consequences.
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>watching stars collide</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>title from 'shallows' by daughter!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Oikawa, I’m pretty sure this is illegal.” </p><p>“No it’s not!” </p><p>“We’re literally breaking in. You’re jumping the fence right now.” </p><p>“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa whined and glanced over his shoulder to glare at Iwaizumi, his eyes thinned to slits in an attempt to threaten him, as he lowered himself down to the ground. </p><p>He landed on two feet with a soft oof and jutted out his chin towards Iwaizumi. An elegant glint flickered in his eye from the moonlight, matching the elegant stance of an impossibly noble, pompous Oikawa. It was the furthest thing from graceful, having managed to get his shoe stuck in the fence, and the bag he launched over the top, but Oikawa seems to believe otherwise. The sight was something, and Iwaizumi couldn’t help but snort at the smug hand perched on his hip. </p><p>“Stop laughing,” he huffed, swiping at him, missing him when Iwaizumi ducked to the right. Another huff, he continued onwards, his long legs sidestepping Iwaizumi and the small puddles littering the school grounds, determined in ignoring Iwaizumi. </p><p>It had been countless minutes as they walked in tow, much like this. The time was spent mostly in silence besides Iwaizumi’s tired grumbles under his breath: of where the fuck they were going and why, in the dying days of October, no less. Oikawa’s giddy secrecy and tangential bursts of one-sided conversations were really trying his patience. He hadn’t received a sufficient answer, just his lilted voice telling him to wait drifting through the bitter air, pissing him off more. </p><p>He had a hunch that Oikawa was leading them to the school’s gym simply by the fact they climbed over the fence into the locked domain, and dawdling through the school’s courtyard furthered his suspicions. Over and above that, this hadn’t been the first time for it to happen. </p><p>Oikawa’s desperate itch to play volleyball had always gotten the best of him and this might just be one of those occasions. </p><p>Iwaizumi kept his gaze down, watching the small pools of water ripple with each of their steps. Though he didn’t miss the random, quick gazes of Oikawa confirming that Iwaizumi was still accompanying him. His body was already aflame in a wildfire, burning with irritation and the malicious longing to go back to bed, and with Oikawa checking up on him, it really didn’t help lessen his tired irritability, sparking a fresh blaze. He flicked his eyes up quickly just as Oikawa whisked his head around, and it didn’t come as a surprise when he tripped over his own feet and his features widened with a sudden panic. </p><p>It happened quickly, throwing his hand out in a fluster to find balance in Iwaizumi’s jacket, or his arm, or something. Iwaizumi couldn’t quite figure out his haste tactics. He watched Oikawa keel over with a squeal. Though, managing to catch himself on all fours, Iwaizumi didn’t dismiss the heavy landing on his knee and the wince that engulfed Oikawa. </p><p>“Are you okay?” Iwaizumi asked, rushed. He actually felt a pang of guilt. </p><p>“You could have saved me,” Oikawa complained, still staring down at the floor. </p><p>“I didn’t know you were going to lose your fucking footing when I looked at you!” </p><p>Oikawa moved to sit back on his heels. “I’m okay, Iwa-chan! Just say you care about me and let it go!” He smiled, that beguiling guise covering his face like a mask, disguising the ache Iwaizumi unquestionably knows throbbing in his joint. </p><p>Despite this brief interruption, Iwaizumi still doesn’t particularly know why he had agreed to sneak out of his house. His pen had restlessly been tapping at his desk, the incessant rapping becoming a comfortable white noise before he threw it down, letting his head follow in defeat. An exasperated sigh huffed across his math homework that desperately needed to be done, but all Iwaizumi could even focus on was sleep and his heavy eyelids, not quadratic polynomials. </p><p>Sprawling across his futon had only resulted in him feeling more awake for reasons he cannot name and loathes, staring up at the popcorn ceiling with nothing and everything floating around in his head. And conveniently he had been awake when the untimely chime of his phone permeated the silent air, subconsciously rolling over to look. </p><p>Now he wished he ignored it and burrowed into his comforter to be swallowed by the warmth rather than trek the closed school grounds at this house, enveloped in just a thin denim jacket he managed to grab, expecting to meet Oikawa at his house and <i>stay at his house.</i></p><p>He supposes this was an excuse. He couldn’t sleep anyway, and it looked like Oikawa couldn’t either. Whenever this happens they usually gravitate towards each other, sending a quick text of <i>are u awake?</i>, talking until they’re falling asleep sitting up on Oikawa’s front porch. It was a comfortable repetition that they had both silently attuned. </p><p>Tonight wasn’t, and it felt odd. </p><p>Iwaizumi extended a hand to Oikawa, briefly eyeing the white-knuckled grip on his knee. After a moment, Oikawa grabbed it and hauled himself up, appearing to be able to put pressure on his leg. </p><p>“Are you sure you’re okay?” Iwaizumi asked once more, uncertain. </p><p>Oikawa side-eyed him. “Yes,” he snapped, rubbing off the small grains of concrete stuck in his jeans and rearranging his rucksack. His sigh was awfully forced. </p><p>Iwaizumi rolled his eyes at the theatrics. “Can we get on with this, then?” </p><p>“You don’t have to sound so grumpy. This is exciting.” Oikawa started out into the darkness. “More so than your boring night, anyway.” </p><p>“I was in bed. That is a normal night.” </p><p>“Sure, sure,” Oikawa dismissed. “We’re almost there so be quiet and enjoy my company.” </p><p>Iwaizumi went to argue back but decided against it, looking over at the crisp reflections of the moon in the unlit windows, rippling over each pane with each step. It was unfamiliarly quiet. Only their respective footsteps and Oikawa’s quiet breathing resonated around them, as opposed to the endless chatter and traffic flowing down the roads. Even Oikawa talking his ear off was more customary than the silence. </p><p>Thinking about it, he noticed a sheer change in that recently - the lack of Oikawa’s prattling as they walked to and from school, even during the evenings they would spend together afterwards, doing homework and whatever else they could find. Oikawa would stir uncomfortably on Iwaizumi’s futon behind him, staring at his back a second too long before brushing it off when Iwaizumi would ask if something was bothering him. He would proceed to ask Iwaizumi to toss for him in the garden, and more often than not, Iwaizumi refused and chided him for not resting. During the documentaries they would watch as a substitute for his gasping thirst to play, Oikawa wouldn’t speak during the entirety of it, sitting closer to Iwaizumi gradually throughout. Iwaizumi wondered if he had learnt from years of being told to shut up about the actress or finally understanding that he didn’t care about the emblematic reasoning of the blue lighting over her face. </p><p>It even fleetingly crosses his mind that Oikawa may have a parasitic tick sucking at his thoughts that he couldn’t shake. </p><p>Today was no different, if not more obvious. Oikawa wouldn’t walk beside him. Whether it was because he was too excited for what he had planned or something else unbeknownst to Iwaizumi, he didn’t know. Even after his numerous attempts to walk up next to him, like they usually did, his stride increased and he managed to get ahead so Iwaizumi trailed behind him. </p><p>The problem was Iwaizumi didn’t want to pry. In the past thirteen years, he didn’t have to. Oikawa either lets his problems blow over quickly, and if it was that serious that he hopelessly needed to, he knew Iwaizumi was always there to listen. There was no embarrassment or shame within that, and needless to say, they both knew it. But regardless of the hankering reasons rattling in Iwaizumi’s head to ask, he continuously left it alone and tried to disregard any irrational theories as to why. </p><p>As they approached a door on the back of the main building, Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow at the awaiting Oikawa. </p><p>“You hauled me out of bed to come to a door?” Iwaizumi deadpanned, miffed. </p><p>“Of course not. God, you really are dense,” he murmured as his hand dug into the back pocket of his tight jeans, tight enough for even his hand to struggle in between the material. “I...have...this.” His hand flicked up with two silver keys jangling between his long fingers. </p><p>Iwaizumi stared. “You better not have stolen them.” </p><p>Oikawa scoffed, his short puff of breath arising into the sky as a cloud. “You have such an unspeakably flawed impression of me if you think I would have stolen this, Iwa-chan,” he declared. “The caretaker just loves me too much to say no.” </p><p>“And why would he have said yes?” </p><p>“Because I’m much too alluring to be resisted.” </p><p>Iwaizumi makes a disbelieving sound. “Is that so?” </p><p>“Yep,” he simply says, making sure his lips exaggerate the pop. </p><p>“Stop shitting around and open the door, then.” </p><p>“See.” Oikawa’s face cracks into a smile, overly pleased with himself. “I told you that you’d give in,” he crooned. </p><p>Iwaizumi pushed Oikawa to finally open the door, gesturing for Iwaizumi to break into the building with a wide gesture of his arm. Really, he had no alternative choice but to step through the doorway and climb the abundance of stairs. He’d come this far, he may as well satisfy Oikawa so he wouldn’t have him complaining about his betrayal for days to come. </p><p>The door crashed shut behind him with a resounding crash, Oikawa voicing an, “oops,” anything but remorse in his tone. </p><p>“Shouldn’t you lead?” Iwaizumi says after pausing on the first flight, looking up at the remaining seven, then back down to Oikawa. </p><p>“Why?” He cocks his head. </p><p>“Because I don’t know where I’m going.” </p><p>Oikawa blinked slowly. “They’re stairs, Iwa-chan. They only go up.” </p><p>“You know what I mean, asshole.” </p><p>“You get so defensive when I’m right,” he taunts, that condescending, overworked smile creeping back on his face. </p><p>“I’m not being defensive, I’m just-” </p><p>“That’s what a defensive person would say.” </p><p>Iwaizumi draws a breath to control himself. “Just,” he breaks off. “Go ahead.” </p><p>Oikawa hesitates, seemingly thinking. But instead of moving past Iwaizumi, he says, “top floor.” </p><p>“Thank you,” Iwaizumi grumbles, and despite himself sets about moving upwards. His hand unclenches from the too tight grip he had on the frozen rail, then it clicks. </p><p>“The roof? Are you serious, Oikawa? It’s like four degrees out.” </p><p>“Lucky for you, you were smart enough to bring a jacket.” </p><p>Iwaizumi's jaw clenched, his reflexes too accustomed with Oikawa’s goading. “What’s on the roof?” He demanded, knowing fully that he won’t receive a reasonable answer. </p><p>He was right, Oikawa said nothing. He gave Iwaizumi a small push on his thigh instead.</p><p>He wanted Oikawa to speak, by any means, just a slight hint of clarification as to why the roof was making him so delighted. He hadn’t been able to ever shut Oikawa up, watching him quickly jump from one conversation to another for so long that he can’t remember the last time they were intentionally in silence. Iwaizumi is pleading for an overly witty remark that will make this situation worthwhile. When, still, nothing left his mouth, he begrudgingly made his way up to the top floor. </p><p>Iwaizumi’s breath came out a little shaky as he stopped in front of another locked door, the effects of an eight story climb slowly deflating his lungs and sending burns down his thighs. </p><p>Unsurprisingly, Oikawa followed closely behind, unwearied and a hair not out of place, still impeccably styled on his forehead. Though there was a light redness glowing on his cheeks. Iwaizumi takes that as a win. </p><p>“Tell me now.” </p><p>“So impatient,” Oikawa playfully upbraids, swiftly stepping beside him and digging for the keys again. The jingle couldn’t have come soon enough and then the door swung open and Iwaizumi was met with the unpleasant gust of wind.</p><p>The roof itself wasn’t pretty in any possible way. The tall railings obstructed the view from every standpoint and the repetitive, damp concrete flooring didn’t make Iwaizumi feel anything but repulsion to the oatmeal colour. It was too big and Iwaizumi’s mind was blank at why Oikawa even wanted to come up here. </p><p>A smug Oikawa saunters forwards, his smile the most profound since Iwaizumi had met up with him earlier. The blanket of the sweet-talking, enticing Oikawa isn’t able to cover up the twinkle of awe, or content, or the pure, pure authenticity that can’t help but surface.  </p><p>Floating to the centre of the roof, Oikawa cannot take his gaze away from the sky. </p><p>It was typical for these kinds of night: cold, starless, meant to be spent inside. There’s no meteor showers or the impossibly clear sight of the space station that he thought might entice Oikawa. </p><p>“Now?” </p><p>Oikawa blinks out of his wondrous trance. “Hmm?” </p><p>“What are we doing here?” </p><p>“Oh!” He drops down into a crouch - with a sharp intake of breath Iwaizumi caught - and shrugs off his bag. A moment later he rises with an unravelling navy blanket, presenting it as an answer. </p><p>“Okay. What’s it for?” </p><p>Oikawa clicks his tongue. “You ask so many questions,” he says, shaking the blanket out and placing it gently to the floor. He falls down delicately and folds his long legs in on themselves. </p><p>“You aren’t telling me what’s happening, of course I’m going to question your schemings.” Iwaizumi crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s going to get wet,” he pointed out, looking around at the shine of the roof slabs, the moon reflecting off the wet mirrors on the floor. </p><p>“Sit down, and I’ll explain,” Oikawa says, patting his hand firmly beside him. Iwaizumi doesn’t move. “Iwaizumi.” </p><p>Despite his hatred for Oikawa’s given nickname, his actual name sounds foreign coming from Oikawa now. “Forgive me if I leave when I get a wet ass,” Iwaizumi mutters. </p><p>Oikawa smiled in response. “Maybe.” </p><p>Iwaizumi could see the satisfaction buzzing within him as he flops down beside him, stretching his legs out and leaning back on his hands. Oikawa watches him intently enough to notice the unwinding tension in him, and Iwaizumi becomes resentful for his tiredness to capture him so quickly again and coerce him to relax. </p><p>He takes everything in for a moment. He can see the sprightly Oikawa beside him in his peripheral vision, humming to himself as he sits on his phone, swiping his slim fingers over the glass. The dim light casts just the right shadows on his face to accentuate his subtle cheekbones, the handsomely petite curve of his nose, even the shadows of the remaining teenage acne littering his jawline. </p><p>When a minute passes and they’re still sitting in silence, bar the irritatingly loud sounds of Oikawa’s keyboard sounds. Iwaizumi drifts his full gaze over to him, his face still soft and lips curved. Iwaizumi stares in passing, for a second. Maybe more.  </p><p>“Oi.” </p><p>Oikawa raised gently from his phone, eyes searching Iwaizumi’s face through his eyelashes. He arched his eyebrows in question.</p><p>“Please tell me you haven’t brought me here to make me watch you on your phone, doing your tinder thing or whatever.” </p><p>“‘Tinder thing’? I’m nauseated by the fact you think I use tinder. I can get someone real if I wanted to, without the use of impotent dating apps,” he exclaims, mouth agape in disbelief. He promptly shuts it and locks his phone.“For your information, I’m texting my mother.” </p><p>“That,” Iwaizumi sighed, “wasn’t the point of what I said. The school’s roof, why?” </p><p>“Well,” Oikawa starts, clapping his hands together. “I read last week that tonight was going to be a particularly clear sky, and I took it upon myself to make sure I could see the stars at the vantage point of a tall building.” He craned his neck back. “You know, without all the other distracting, ugly houses around mine.” </p><p>“One of those distracting, ugly houses is mine,” Iwaizumi states flatly. </p><p>“Yes, and?” </p><p>“Oikawa.” </p><p>Oikawa laughs, his face crinkling up slightly as he pulls his slender legs up to his chest. “I’m just kidding! Though it is awfully Iwa-chan to not understand my unprecedented humour.” </p><p>“I swear to god,” Iwaizumi trails off. Then his mouth falls open again. “Are you fucking kidding me?” </p><p>“What?” There was a tremor in his voice that Iwaizumi recognised as genuine fear.</p><p>“You made me trespass, in the dead of night, just so you can fucking stargaze?!” </p><p>“Well, when you put it like that…” </p><p>Iwaizumi opened and closed his mouth, lips trying to find their way around the words spinning in his head. He leered over at Oikawa who was no doubt trying to hide behind his knees. </p><p>“You’re unbelievable,” he spits, abruptly moving to stand. </p><p>Oikawa flies his hand out to grab ahold of Iwaizumi’s wrist, restraining him from moving. His cold fingers were gripped so shockingly tight it was inescapable. He always forgot, despite Oikawa’s lean and toned physique, he was ridiculously stronger than he looks. </p><p>The touch electrified Iwaizumi’s skin, tingling through his nerves and veins and oozing throughout his chest, attention affixed solely on his touch. </p><p>“Iwa-chan, please,” Oikawa rushed under his breath. </p><p>Iwaizumi doesn’t speak. An unfamiliar lump formed in his throat and he choked the words back down. He clenched his jaw and yanked his wrist, causing Oikawa’s body to jerk, but still, his grip wouldn’t move. </p><p>“Let go,” Iwaizumi demands, voice tight and strained. </p><p>Something changed. It was slight, and if Iwaizumi had blinked at just the right time, he may have missed it. Oikawa’s face tensed, in fact his whole body stiffened. His eyes searched Iwaizumi’s stoic face for anything, his own expression twisted between being subsided and a state of anxiety, where his eyebrows pulled closer together and his lips drew tight, and only for a mere second did his eyes seem glossier. </p><p>“I didn’t want to be alone.”</p><p>Iwaizumi shivered at the unorthodox bout of honesty. His wrist continued to throb where Oikawa’s skin connected against his and he couldn’t pull away, not anymore. It sparked a strange, yet welcome, warmth and Iwaizumi’s mind hazed with confusion. They sat just simply staring at one another awhile too long, Iwaizumi’s body unthinkingly settling back down into the softness of the blanket. </p><p>“Oikawa.” It was quieter than Iwaizumi expected it to come out. “I could have just come to your house. Or had something happened?” </p><p>“No! No, nothing happened.” His hand uncurled from Iwaizumi’s wrist when he deemed it safe, and Iwaizumi tried to wipe away the thought of missing the tightness. “I needed something better to do other than stare up at my ceiling.” </p><p>
  <i>Huh.</i>
</p><p>“Stay with me. Please. I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted a better viewpoint.” </p><p>Oikawa’s shattered facade of perfection bothered him. Iwaizumi couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but the pleading eyes and desperation to keep him here uncomfortably sat in stomach. He trusted him when he said nothing had happened at home, it hadn’t before and he was aware of the fact nothing would. His parents were lovely and caring and had too much pride in Oikawa to make him want to run away and stargaze from the bizarre location of the school, to fear returning home. </p><p>This face - the one that Iwaizumi had slowly started to notice - it stayed. The outlandish warp of his features he has yet to understand. It hadn’t completely left but when their skin made contact, he swore he saw the tinge of composure in Oikawa’s posture, that just touching Iwaizumi brought him back down to earth. Iwaizumi still couldn’t find the right thing to say, instead he continued to watch Oikawa, mind rushing through the layers of flitting thoughts to find the suitable words. The oddness of the situation, the coincidence that they were in the same situation tonight, yearning for sleep, pricked goosebumps in his skin.  </p><p>Staring, he found it strange how he’d never noticed the faint dust of freckles on the bridge of Oikawa’s nose, even lighter across his cheeks, despite sitting in this light that barely distinguished anything. The fragile curl of his eyelashes, the quiver of his lip that would go unnoticed if you didn’t search for it, especially when thinking. Overthinking. The faintly dented craters above his eyebrow that remains from his infant chickenpox, usually covered by his hair. </p><p>Iwaizumi hadn’t meant to, but he nodded. It was a light movement and before he realised, his legs slackened until he felt the cold seep through his jeans from the concrete. He heard Oikawa breathe as he pulled his own legs tighter against his chest. </p><p>“We shouldn’t stay out here too long, though,” Iwaizumi said softly. “Don’t you dare get a cold.” </p><p>“So protective,” Oikawa hums. </p><p>“Shut up,” he mutters back. “You will just complain about being ill and I can’t deal with your mithering.” </p><p>“I’m not that bad.” </p><p>Iwaizumi couldn’t stop the bark of laughter. </p><p>Being friends with Oikawa for as long as he had meant he had adapted to not answering back when Oikawa believed he was in the right. It meant he learnt how to manage with him, scolding him when needs be, and how he manages to continue being friends with him despite the (playful) arguments that bounce between them. It’s still a wonder of the universe Iwaizumi has yet to discover. He knew they were lighthearted, and more often than not, it was just Iwaizumi telling him to shut up when he was in one of his taunting moods, obviously with no fear of repercussions. </p><p>But Iwaizumi still has not acclimatised to the fact how utterly pliant he becomes when Oikawa needs him. Though it is rare, just the utterance of Oikawa calling for Iwaizumi sends him into an everlasting orbit of confusion and affirmation all the same, regardless of what situation it is. When Oikawa watched that pathetically scary documentary, and couldn’t sleep, Iwaizumi was there to keep him company in his bedroom, not arguing when Oikawa needed a lamp on. When his knee kept causing him persistent aching, even with the fact he himself had overworked it, Iwaizumi was there, massaging and carefully continuing when Oikawa winced. </p><p>They had always been so innately tailored to one another that the entirety of their bond came so simply. </p><p>Tonight felt like no different. Despite Oikawa texting him, exclaiming that <i>iwa-chan, i have an emergency!</i>, and it turned out to be staring up into the blank sky, Iwaizumi was still here, and he felt that sporadic pang in his chest to know that Oikawa had him whatever the circumstance, whenever. </p><p>He removed himself from his thoughts when he was struggling to breathe, feeling that wildfire die down into nothing but embers and ashen wood. He watched the blinking stars in the unusually clear sky, appearing out of nowhere. </p><p>“Huh. You were right.” </p><p>Oikawa tipped his head back and smiled, Iwaizumi catching the pleased hitch in his breath as he did so. “Yes. About what?” </p><p>Iwaizumi’s voice was tight and starting to drip with impatience again. “I will leave.” </p><p>“No!” Oikawa laughed.</p><p>His pulse jumps. Iwaizumi’s neck burns and feels the intense heaviness as if the other’s brown eyes were scorching holes in him, holding him down with chains and unspoken pleads. He keeps his attention above him, not daring to look across. “I meant about the sky being clear. I haven’t seen the stars like this in a long time.”  </p><p>“I know,” he says. “It’s beautiful.” </p><p>Oikawa doesn’t wait. He shifts without hesitancy and lowers himself back against the blanket. As soon as he does, he clicks his tongue and rises again to turn to his bag. Iwaizumi watches him dig through the contents as if he was excavating the ground with his bare hands. After a grunt, his hand is clasped around his chrome Thermos. </p><p>“Can I help you?” </p><p>“What?” Iwaizumi sputters. “No, I was just curious how much other shit you planned for this.” </p><p>“Coffee isn’t ‘shit’, Iwa-chan.” He unscrews the cap. “I was going to offer you some but you seem repulsed at the thought.” </p><p>Oikawa moved to lay back down, trying to arrange his still somehow plump bag as a pillow behind his head. It was an awful sight to watch, Oikawa struggling and huffing out of annoyance when something kept digging into his head, or it was too flat, or the angle meant his chin doubled against his neck. He got there in the end. </p><p>The Thermos stood up next to him. Iwaizumi eyed it and an attack of tiredness wounded him, reluctantly thinking that maybe the coffee would be nice. For the energy, but also for the warmth. </p><p>“I’ll take some.” He didn’t miss the glare in Oikawa’s eyes as he spoke. </p><p>“Are you being serious? I just got comfy Iwa-chan!” Oikawa protested as he sat back up. </p><p>He mumbled under his breath as he yanked out a spare plastic mug from his bag, grousing about how he could have said earlier instead of gawking at him. The liquid poured out and the mist escaped with it, and Iwaizumi’s mouth watered at the impossibly close warmth. </p><p>It was shoved into his hand as Oikawa reached over and hauled himself back down on the floor. </p><p>“Thank you.” Iwaizumi took a sip and choked back the liquid threatening to spray out his mouth. “Jesus Christ, Oikawa. How much sugar do you need?” </p><p>“About seven spoonfuls. It’s awful otherwise,” he said matter of factly, not even batting an eyelid at the absurd sweetness when he sips, lying down. </p><p>Iwaizumi grimaces and effortlessly places the plastic to the side, smacking his lips to try and get rid of the taste. </p><p>A couple of shuffles later, he leans back to follow Oikawa. He reaches up and adjusts the black hood of his jumper, letting his arm bend behind his head as a makeshift pillow. Although it wasn’t the same luxuriating comfort he feels with his pillow at home, it will do for now. </p><p>He didn’t realise how close Oikawa was until his elbow bumped against Oikawa’s shoulder. </p><p>“Hey, Iwa-chan, do you not know the concept of personal space?” he quipped, but didn’t move. </p><p>Iwaizumi’s jacket does little to protect him from the cold, but it isn’t as awful as he predicted on the walk here. Having had the announcement of upcoming snow, it could be worse. </p><p>He watches his breath turn into vapour as he breathes in shallow pants, following it up into the sky where the moon shines down and the stars blink against the inky blue. It reminds him of older days when Oikawa would drag him out, all the same as tonight, to watch the stars and the meteors on his roof, and unfortunately the aliens and imaginary shooting stars that Oikawa would profusely argue were real. He forced Iwaizumi to make a wish with his big eyes and filled out cheeks, his mouth cracked open in a grin as he watched Iwaizumi close his eyes and think. </p><p>Back then there wasn’t much to wish for. His family was healthy, he was sufficient in school, he himself was happy. Nevertheless, it was always the same, and every time the wish came without thinking, no hesitation or second guessing the multitude of improbable wishes that would never come true. </p><p>After Oikawa’s copious amount of begging to know what his best friend had wished for, Iwaizumi was reluctant to tell him. </p><p>It has changed since then. When their nights of stargazing began to decrease and homework and training started filling up their evenings instead. Oikawa no longer had his baby fat in his face, diminishing to show his cheekbones and pointed chin, though his eyes were still wide and filled with wonder each time he saw a star - that was nice. </p><p>Iwaizumi doesn’t receive the persistent harassment to know his wishes anymore, simply because they don’t happen, but if he did see a shooting star and was pressured into making a wish, he thinks it would stay the same. </p><p>
  <i>To be with Oikawa, whatever happens.</i>
</p><p>He knows for certain it was never embarrassment. It might have something to do with his determined willpower to not inflate Oikawa’s already swollen ego, more so now than back then. It was just a very personal thing to want, and to tell Oikawa that this is what he continually longed for, he always assumed it would do more harm than good. Admitting to Oikawa about his appreciation for him, his...fear of losing him, he assumed Oikawa would find it weird and slowly cease their friendship. </p><p>As reliant as Oikawa is on Iwaizumi, it is so eagerly returned from Iwaizumi. Ever since they had been kids running around each other's gardens, punching each other, Oikawa crying, Iwaizumi had felt that bolt of adoration strike through him towards the small boy and the terrifying thought of how far he would truly go to protect him. From the petty bullies tormenting Oikawa about the overly effeminate nature of his whining to sneaking Oikawa in his futon so his parents won’t get disappointed over his aggravated injury. It is scary, but it’s Oikawa. It comes with ease. </p><p>He felt his soft smile slowly melt away from his face. </p><p>“I don’t even have to look at you to know you’re thinking,” Oikawa stated. “I can hear all your poor five braincells overworking themselves from here.” </p><p>Iwaizumi reached his spare arm out and punched Oikawa’s shoulder. “Asshole. I was thinking about how we used to do this.” It isn’t exactly a lie. </p><p>Oikawa lolled his head to the side. His fringe gently fell with him and this time it wasn’t so perfect. Loose hairs stuck up and curls fell into his eyes and it had separated from its flawless, styled swish. Iwaizumi thought it looked better like that. “You remember that?” </p><p>“Of course I do,” Iwaizumi said, still staring up into the abyss above. “You were just as annoying back then as you are now. I don’t think I’ll ever forget you.” </p><p>His face crumpled in confusion. “I don’t know whether that was intended as an insult or compliment.” </p><p>“No comment.” </p><p>“You’re so difficult.” </p><p>“Hmm. I guess it’s an eye for eye, then.” </p><p>“Rude,” Oikawa huffs. “Rude, Iwa-chan.” He pouted as he affixed his curiosity back to the sky. </p><p>Iwaizumi couldn’t help but chuckle and it only made Oikawa worse, gaping his mouth at the utmost betrayal of his best friend. </p><p>Once again, he ignored Iwaizumi when he didn’t receive the satisfaction he wanted. </p><p>Somehow everything seemed brighter than before with the moon beaming down on the two and putting a glimmer in both their eyes, and Iwaizumi found himself back into that peace from before. </p><p>But of course it didn’t last, not when he knew Oikawa. </p><p>“There! There it is, Iwa-chan!” He propelled himself up so fast it made Iwaizumi dizzy. His arm was raised and beautifully pointed to the sky, his thin wrists and long fingers trying to direct Iwaizumi to, probably, one particular star in the void of billions. “Iwa-chan, look!” He whined excitedly.  </p><p>“Oikawa, I can’t see shit.” </p><p>“Look harder, then!” </p><p>Iwaizumi did try. Sitting up, he followed the angle of Oikawa’s fingers but all he saw were small dots that looked exactly the same, all random and haphazardly scattered across the blank vastness of the sky. </p><p>Though, the sight he found eventually was the passion blazing in Oikawa’s face, his smile almost breaking his jaw in two, when he faced him. He was in pure bliss, in such a state of awe he didn’t see Iwaizumi’s face soften just that little bit, even accidentally managing a smile that shattered his retained cold-blooded nature with Oikawa. </p><p>Oikawa hurried to his bag for a third time, easily pulling out a worn out, sorry for itself, notebook. He flicked the pages open until he fell on a blank one towards the back. Through the quick flutter of paper, Iwaizumi caught a glimpse of the cursive, bubbly handwriting scrawled across the pages, doodles and stuck-in clippings of all sorts beside it. </p><p>“What are you doing?” </p><p>The tip of Oikawa’s tongue stuck out of his lips in concentration as his hand attacked the page with notes. “Documenting.” </p><p>Iwaizumi waited for an elaboration. “What?” </p><p>“Cassiopeia.” </p><p>“Huh?” </p><p>Oikawa looked up with that reverence still across his face, a smile hidden in all his soft features. “Cassiopeia, the constellation.” </p><p>“Oh,” is all Iwaizumi could manage. </p><p>“You see,” he started. He shuffled closer to Iwaizumi, now positioned on his side across the blanket, flicking his notebook to the front. “I start a new notebook each year, and in January I saw Caelum first.” His finger drifted over the neat sketch, and whilst all Iwaizumi really saw was a disfigured line, Oikawa admired it like it was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. </p><p>“Can you not just make them up? Look,” Iwaizumi says, pointing up. “Orion’s Belt.” </p><p>“That’s a clump of random stars.” </p><p>“Exactly.” </p><p>He easily fell into his practiced maelstrom of offence as Iwaizumi sniggered. </p><p>He continued to show Iwaizumi the rest of his notebook in a hurried manner, turning the pages too quickly that he actually didn’t manage to see much. A few overly fancy titles and doodles of dots and lines. </p><p>“You do this every night?” He questioned, reaching the end of the book. </p><p>“Not really,” Oikawa states, shrugging. “Every so often when I can’t sleep.” </p><p>Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes at the thickness of the filled pages. “You can’t sleep that much?” </p><p>“Iwa-chan, stop being so concerned.” He closed his notebook. “Stars come out early in the evenings. It’s not always at” - he checks his watch - “1:14 AM.” </p><p>Iwaizumi says nothing. He catches sight of how Oikawa’s finger traces the fading drawing on the front of the book, grazing the tattered corners. He didn’t want to say anything, but staring at the thickness of the pad, and with it being only October, it picked at the back of his mind. But Oikawa was right, the nights are longer and the darkness appears earlier in the evenings. </p><p>Maybe Oikawa’s recent distant efforts were due to the lack of sleep. </p><p>“So,” he says in lieu. “Cassiopeia?” </p><p>“Will the moronic brain of yours be able to find it?” Oikawa smiled tauntingly, but settled down beside Iwaizumi nonetheless, his side pressed up close against Iwaizumi. </p><p>“Shut up and just show me, asshole.” </p><p>Oikawa stilled for a moment. Iwaizumi assumed it was him searching the sky for it again, and when he did his wrist was seized and held up and manhandled before him. He was caught off guard by the sudden frozen touch of Oikawa’s fingers wrapping back around his wrist. </p><p>It took a moment for him to understand he needed to follow Oikawa’s movements, helping him by pointing out his index finger for Oikawa to guide. </p><p>“Uhh,” he drew out as he searched. “There! Do you see that W-shape on it’s side, of about five brighter stars?” </p><p>Iwaizumi lingered too much on Oikawa’s touch than on the sky. “I think so,” he lied. It wasn’t a complete lie, he did see five stars, but he wasn’t sure whether they were the right ones. Oikawa dropped their hands far too soon. </p><p>“Well,” Oikawa said, leaning his head slightly against Iwaizumi’s shoulder. “In Greek mythology, Cassiopeia was a queen and wife to King Cephus. She was awfully vain and boastful, she would spend all day staring at herself in the mirror and brushing her hair-”</p><p>“Hmm. Sounds familiar-” </p><p>“Then one day, she dared to boast that she was more beautiful than these sea nymphs called the Nereids. Cassiopeia was a mortal, and the Nereids declared that such hubris could not go unpunished by one, so obviously they went in search of retribution.” </p><p>“Were the Nereids that pretty, then?” </p><p>“I don’t know, Iwa-chan, I’ve never seen one. Anyway, there were like fifty of them, and one of them was conveniently married to Poseidon - do you know who Poseidon is?” </p><p>“Yeah.” </p><p>“Hmm. Well, I think you’re lying. He was the God of the sea. He was infuriated, and his wife, Amphirite and her sisters declared for punishment for Cassiopeia’s vanity. Of course, he obliged because he was an idiot in love and was rather powerful, so he sent Cetus, a sea monster, to ravage the coast of Cephus’s kingdom. Though, to appease the monster's wrath and to stop this mass destruction on their land, Cassiopeia and Cephus chained their daughter, Andromeda, to a rock as a sacrifice!” </p><p>“Hmm. How barbaric.” </p><p>“I guess. But, of course there was a happy ending for Andromeda. She was rescued by the hero Perseus, who was conveniently passing by.” Oikawa smiled. “It kind of got thrown back in Cassiopeia’s face, though, because now she is stuck on her throne, circling the celestial pole. Sometimes she’s upright, sometimes she’s upside down, as per punishment from the gods.” </p><p>“Maybe we should put you on a throne and send you to space. That way you might stop being so conceited.” </p><p>“You would like to think so, Iwa-chan, but even that may not erase my beauty.” </p><p>“I don’t think that was the point of her punishment.” </p><p>Oikawa regarded Iwaizumi with his wide eyes. “Are you saying I’m not beautiful?” </p><p>“Well, no,” Iwaizumi said without thinking. “But she performed an act of defiance, no less against the gods. That was basically forbidden back then.” </p><p>“Did you say I was beautiful?”</p><p>Iwaizumi choked. “What?” </p><p>“You said no,” he repeated, slowly, as if trying to piece his words together, “when I asked if you were saying that I’m not beautiful.” </p><p>Iwaizumi sighed. “Is that what you took from that? I listened to you blabber on about a Queen who you are fundamentally the epitome of,” he quipped. “And all I got was an ego-fueling question. You narcissistic asshole.” </p><p>“You said it, not me!” </p><p>“Well, I didn’t mean to,” he grumbled. “Sorry to disappoint.” </p><p>Oikawa focused on him uneasily. His lips curling downwards in thought, teeth chattering from the cold. He rolled over on to his side as soon as Iwaizumi sat up, and it was in the flare of panic Oikawa conveyed in his haste maneuvers that Iwaizumi comprehended himself and looked, really looked at Oikawa. </p><p>He had avoided it for five years now. He kept his mouth shut at the words yearning to spill out yet he had been quick enough to cover them up with fruitless insults and shoulder punches. He had miserably tried to ignore everything and shove every single thought to the back of his end and plant it in the void, never to be reminded again, letting it fizzle out into nothing. But each walk home without Oikawa by his side, and the absence of him in the cafeteria from time to time, and not overstaying his welcome when they had stayed up too late felt like he lost a limb. It stormed through him, flooding so violently and unrelenting that the void began to overfill and deluge his mind - that the feeling of life would be life with Oikawa, and something far more insignificant without. </p><p>He doesn’t remember when he started to figure it out. There were, still are, times that provoked Iwaizumi an awful lot, like being dragged out of bed to stargaze, when Oikawa would steal half his lunch and smile as he dug into the bento box. Always when their plans would be replaced with a rushed date with one of his fangirls, and when that happened for the third time consecutively Iwaizumi had to drive himself into the ground on a run to burn off the pathetic prick of jealousy that he hated with everything he had. </p><p>Unforgettably, however, was the time when Oikawa sweated blood to perfect one of his volleyball techniques to the point of shattering the full healing of his knee. Iwaizumi had been fueled with such unbending anger and disappointment, but a sharp, fast thought fractured his resentment and was replaced with the fear that Oikawa wouldn’t have a shoulder to lean on during the struggling walk home, the nimble fingers that worked on his knees to relax his muscles, a welcoming futon to sleep in secret, if he stayed spiteful at him and his stupid mistakes. </p><p>Though the true breaking-point of Iwaizumi’s lifelong annoyance at him was when he looked across at Oikawa that night, his eyebrows gently creating a crevasse out of pain, the unflattering drool sliding down his chin. </p><p>Iwaizumi’s breaths came out ragged, studying that same look, charged with affliction. Everything came rushing back to him - as if it ever really left him in the first place. It was back then, countless years ago, when Iwaizumi mused the thought that spending his life with Oikawa wasn’t terrifying anymore. That fear had since subsided into nothing and now was simply a tender longing. </p><p>The downwards flick of his eyes was inevitable, especially when Oikawa parted his lips in protest but all that came out was a hopeless breath of air. The amount of times Iwaizumi had floated down to his lips when Oikawa wasn’t paying attention couldn’t be counted on all the fingers that existed, though this may have been the first time he had consciously looked at them with hunger when Oikawa was watching so intently, so aware. </p><p>The brief tension evaporated into the night air and Iwaizumi wasn’t fully certain what was happening, but it was still strained and silent and he really cannot stop watching the small quiver of Oikawa’s lips, shining with well-worn lip balm. </p><p>Rather than standing up, Iwaizumi kneels, ignoring the dull pain in his knees against the floor, ignoring the alarmed yelling in his head to stop. </p><p>“You didn’t,” Oikawa said steadily, lower than a whisper. His eyes are wide, and the molten chocolate of his irises are barely distinguishable from the blown out black of his eyes. </p><p>“What?” </p><p>“You didn’t disappoint me.” </p><p>“Oh.” Iwaizumi stilled. He forgot about their pathetic dispute. Truthfully, he did mean Oikawa was beautiful, especially like this; faraway, his built-up walls demolished, cheeks flustered by the cold. “That’s good.” </p><p>“Are you leaving?” Oikawa asked, worried. Restrained emotion glazed his eyes. </p><p>Iwaizumi couldn’t respond. He ought to. He ought to also run before his impulses capture the best of him, to ignore the ache in his lungs to stay with Oikawa and make sure he never feels alone again. </p><p>He shook his head, silently signaling, ‘never’. He isn’t leaving. </p><p>Iwaizumi hadn’t heard him move to sit up slightly, now utterly emotionless before him.</p><p>Iwaizumi blinked. Then shifted, an infinitesimal motion towards him. It was a deformed act of trust, of bungee jumping without knowing if everything was tied appropriately, of diving off a cliff without knowing the depth of the water below. He didn’t know what he was doing, or how it was going to turn out, or whether he would rise to the surface of the water alive - but he did it anyway, without thinking. </p><p>A hair breadth away, Iwaizumi stops himself. </p><p>“I want to kiss you,” he breathes, noticing the shiver that ran through Oikawa at their interminging breaths. It was out before Iwaizumi could retract back into himself and never show his face to Oikawa anymore. </p><p>Iwaizumi was so lost in hesitation that he didn’t heed the rising of Oikawa, rolling on to his own knees into Iwaizumi. </p><p>Their lips met gently. Oikawa was numbingly cold and his lips were just as perfectly soft as they looked. They barely moved against one another, as if they feared it could go wrong if they dared to part their lips and synchronise. Iwaizumi could feel the soft trickle of Oikawa’s breath against his top lip, falling from his nose in a long exhale as Oikawa melted into him, feeling like relief. It reminded Iwaizumi to breathe, and he took a sharp inhale. </p><p>It was awfully tentative and Iwaizumi’s fingers trembled when he didn’t know what to do with them, wanting to outstretch them from the fists beside him or caress Oikawa’s neck. Oikawa’s body hadn’t stiffened in dislike or pulled away, so neither did Iwaizumi, making him press that little bit harder, careful not to make it lustful or flirtatious, simply just tender. Sweet. Slow.</p><p>There was no reason to rush like they were running out of time, because at this moment it felt like everything around Iwaizumi had stopped, and the most important thing right now was Oikawa liquefying against his lips. </p><p>Really, it was nothing more than a prolonged peck, and it felt like a first kiss - awkward and unknowing. Iwaizumi fought the urge to thread his fingers through Oikawa’s silken hair and to let them linger on his cheek for a moment, just to saviour the touch of Oikawa on him. His fingertips were still filled with a dissatisfied thrum of electricity that needed to be used up, and Oikawa’s newfound warmth blooming over his cheeks could be a suitable, yet very temporary solution, Iwaizumi thought. </p><p>Oikawa’s eyes were half-lidded as Iwaizumi pulled back. He was breathless after having the oxygen ripped from his lungs so suddenly. Whether it was out of shock or elation, Iwaizumi didn’t want to know. </p><p>“That was pitiful,” Oikawa professed, raising his fingers to Iwaizumi’s neck to pull him back in. </p><p>His fingertips drifted across his skin so lightly as their lips connected again, heavier with emotion and need. Iwaizumi’s eyes fluttered shut at the touch, relaxing into the gesture of Oikawa gliding up through his tufts of dark hair and digging in, scratching nimble fingers over his scalp. Iwaizumi hummed out of satisfaction equally shared between their conjoined mouths, at the slow forming shape of a smile against his own, the slow pull on his top lip. </p><p>Oikawa tried to climb further into Iwaizumi, refusing to part like it would kill him. It was still unhurried and slow, patient and exploratory. They move against each other more languidly, reconnecting like desperate magnets to feel each other and sending waves of ceaseless tingles down each other's bodies, storing them in the depths of his stomach to relight later. </p><p>The scarce embrace became firm. Oikawa’s hand dipped to the back of his neck to crush them further together, and it prompted Iwaizumi to touch Oikawa all the more. His own hand molded against Oikawa’s jaw, feeling it move with the motions of his opening mouth, drifting his thumb along his cheekbone. </p><p>The barest amount of tongue teased along Iwaizumi’s bottom lip, unsurely, but Iwaizumi happily opened his mouth more, engulfing Oikawa’s lips, forcing him to dive into and devour him. </p><p>Iwaizumi can taste the longing and the sugar, the small remnant of coffee lingering still, the vanilla honey flavouring of his lip balm. It was so perfectly Oikawa that he wanted to laugh and never taste anything ever again. </p><p>In an act of surprise, Oikawa pulled back, separating with a wet aggrievement. He opened his dark eyes clouded with fervour. </p><p>Iwaizumi dropped his hand from where it glued to Oikawa’s jaw, resting it against the smooth curve of his neck. “That was pitiful,” he reiterated. <i>It wasn’t enough.</i></p><p>Oikawa looked offended, but quickly softened into fondness. “I agree.” </p><p>“Sorry,” he managed. They both knew he wasn’t. It was everything Iwaizumi had spent the last years envisioning, and it wasn’t pitiful, it was beautiful. As beautiful as a hesitant approach could be. </p><p>“I didn’t take you for a good kisser, Iwa-chan.” </p><p>Laughing, nervously, he confessed, “me either.” </p><p>Oikawa’s face dropped. “Please tell me I wasn’t your first kiss.” </p><p>Iwaizumi cringed. “Is that such a bad thing.” </p><p>“No,” Oikawa stated. Firmly. An unfamiliar smile melted on his lips and it was full of endearment, sentiment, and everything else that looked pretty on him. It was nice. Though Iwaizumi didn’t miss the quirk of the corners that quickly transformed it into a satisfied smirk. “I’m glad it was me. It took you long enough.” </p><p>“There it is. I knew it.” </p><p>“Knew what?” </p><p>“That you’re proud you took my first kiss, like completing a conquest.” </p><p>“That’s quite the insinuation, Iwaizumi.” </p><p>“Yet, a correct one.” </p><p>Oikawa shook his head vigorously, wafting his hand in the air to dismiss him. “Nope. You are mistaken.” </p><p>They fell into a silence as Iwaizumi struggled to find words again, their faces close enough together that Oikawa’s shaky breaths continued to float over his skin. Iwaizumi only looked at him with what felt like one of the most gentle expressions he could fuster. He couldn't work out where the courage had come from. </p><p>It was true when he said Oikawa took his first kiss. He doesn’t think that one peck in third grade counted, and since then, no one has created the flutters in his stomach like Oikawa unknowingly had. Of course he had a few crushed throughout the years, on that one girl he met on holiday, and memorably the first boy that made him do a double-take out in Tokyo when he was thirteen, and though it meant nothing, and led to nothing, he caused the life-changing realisation that Iwaizumi liked both. </p><p>But, Oikawa? Once he understood, it came to him quickly that he looked at Oikawa differently. The way Iwaizumi couldn’t peel his attention away from Oikawa’s smile, or the way his eyes would uncontrollably wander over to Oikawa’s growing body in the changing rooms, scanning the freshly lean muscles and allure, losing his breath slightly whenever Oikawa innocently caught him. When he memorised his laugh, and swam in the dark of his eyes, drowning with no intention of wanting to be saved. </p><p>But especially now, with his fingers not able to leave Iwaizumi’s burning skin, or his lips still needing more when Iwaizumi was certain he’d overdone it. Even more so with the blush colouring his cheeks that he’d never, in his life and next, thought would exist so heavenly on Oikawa. </p><p>“What does this mean?” Oikawa asked, bringing Iwaizumi out of his reverie. </p><p>It hadn’t crossed his mind. He just wanted to kiss Oikawa. The repercussions did not even register in the slightest anymore. As long as Oikawa wouldn’t hate him, he would risk it. When they attached, he forgot that Oikawa’s feelings existed and that he probably didn’t want this, but the lack of separation just spurred Iwaizumi on and gave him a charge of confidence. </p><p>“What do you want?” He asked, simply because he didn’t have an answer. Oikawa was a book of mysteries with the padlock secure and the key thrown away, and he wanted to desperately search for it and study every word printed on the page. He needed to know. </p><p>“I would really like to keep doing,” he stopped, moving his head closer, fondling the short hairs on the back of Iwaizumi’s neck, “this.” </p><p>“Okay.” </p><p>“Okay?” </p><p>“Yeah,” Iwaizumi sighed, wrapped up in a tender laughter, the air leaving his lungs fast at the sight of Oikawa this close. “Me too.” </p><p>“You’re a man of many words, Iwa-chan,” he purred, licking his lips. </p><p>“Shut up.” Iwaizumi bent his neck forwards to capture him in a kiss, his tongue gliding along his kiss-swollen lips too enticing to ignore. The long-dormant heat flourished in his chest as he pulled away as quickly as he connected them. “Are you finished checking out the sky?” </p><p>Oikawa hummed at the loss, bashing their foreheads together. “I was done a long time ago.” </p><p>“We’re leaving, then. I can’t feel my toes.” </p><p>“You should have said something, stupid Iwa-chan.” </p><p>“It was nice watching you so interested in something other than yourself.” </p><p>“Smooth.” Oikawa closed his eyes and the ghosting touch of his eyelashes against Iwaizumi’s cheek was tantalising. The touch made Iwaizumi feel like himself for the first time. It seemed so natural, so instinctive that he began to chastise himself for waiting until now. “Mean, but smooth. I suppose I can let you off because you’re so pretty.” </p><p>Iwaizumi grabbed his shoulders and hauled him back from where he was beginning to stand. “Pretty?”</p><p>Oikawa smiled, grasping Iwaizumi’s face between his smooth hands. “Mhm. Pretty. Brutishly so.” He planted a chaste kiss against his lip, just because he could. </p><p>“Don’t think kissing me will make me forgive you.” </p><p>“I’m somewhat certain it will.” </p><p>“You’re not that good.” </p><p>Oikawa scoffs. “Like you have anything to compare me to.” </p><p>“Ouch, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi deadpanned. </p><p>“I’m just saying!” He poked his nose. “Now, get up before your cute ass starts to freeze off.” </p><p>He easily stood up despite being on his knees. Iwaizumi was surprised, as his legs were almost numb, tingling with pins and needles and the muscles stiff, that he didn’t instantly fall back over. Kissing really was distracting. “Stop calling me pretty, and cute,” Iwaizumi complained. “It’s almost as if you were looking at my ass this whole time.” </p><p>“Who says I wasn’t?”</p><p>“Why didn’t you say anything?!” </p><p>Oikawa threw on his bag. “Why didn’t you?” </p><p>“I-” he cut off, Iwaizumi not particularly sure himself. “You always flaunt yourself at those girls, and this whole tinder thing, I-” </p><p>“Iwaizumi.” Oikawa shakes his head. Iwaizumi felt his heart stutter at the use of his name. “I don’t have tinder! And I don’t flaunt, I just like the attention. Especially when my best friend wouldn’t give me any.” </p><p>“Ah ah! Don’t gaslight me, asshole. You could have said something as well.” </p><p>“True,” Oikawa sighed in defeat. “But we did it. Eventually.” </p><p>Iwaizumi closed his eyes, rubbing the heel of his palm into them until he saw stars. “Yeah,” he yawned. “I’m glad.” </p><p>“Don’t yawn when you say that!” Oikawa smacked his hand against Iwaizumi’s arm. </p><p>“I wouldn’t be so exhausted if some dumbass hadn’t dragged me out in an ‘emergency’.” </p><p>“But you got such a good-looking person kissing you back,” Oikawa gushed, smiling. </p><p>Iwaizumi grunted. “I wouldn’t put it past you to have set this up.” </p><p>Oikawa stopped. </p><p>“You didn’t.” </p><p>“I didn’t!” Oikawa assured, hands wiggling in front of him. “Okasan did.” </p><p>“I can’t tell if you’re joking.” </p><p>Oikawa burst out laughing, shaking his head. “I swear.” </p><p>“How long has she known?!” </p><p>Oikawa crept closer to Iwaizumi to rid of the gap, pressing their bodies together. “Probably longer than we have.” </p><p>Iwaizumi groaned, long, annoyed. “This so embarrassing.” </p><p>The air was warmer. Not really, but Iwaizumi’s body was burning with the combination of embarrassment and the recent affection, and when Oikawa swayed his hand into his, he could feel the same warmth fiery inside him. He let their fingers entwine when he prompted Oikawa to move instead of staring at him, wanting to forget about the fact Oikawa’s mother ignited whatever this is. </p><p>“You need hand moisturizer,” Oikawa said. Iwaizumi sighed. </p><p>“Thank you.” </p><p>“It wasn’t a compliment!” </p><p>Iwaizumi squeezed his hand tighter and dragged him off the roof. </p><p>Outside the gate, after chivously holding his hand back out for Oikawa to jump down carefully, receiving the quick chirp of, “Iwa-chan, such a romantic.” </p><p>“Shut up. Is your knee okay?” </p><p>Oikawa slumped his head against Iwaizumi’s shoulder with a nod. His hair gently tickled the overwhelming beating in his veins, but Iwaizumi said nothing, gently swinging their hands together. After years of accidental brushing and touches that Iwaizumi dismissed, oh, so wrongly, everything felt so right. </p><p>Overwhelming affection rolled through Iwaizumi, although he refused Oikawa to see it. The satisfaction of Iwaizumi kissing him first was obviously still eminent within him. Though, the gesture of holding hands in conjunction, and not just Oikawa pulling him somewhere, made him all giddy and etched a smile into his face. It only widened when he saw the curve of Oikawa’s hidden in his shoulder as they walked home. </p><p>It was a miraculous thing that he couldn’t resist kissing Oikawa at that moment. He was surprised it wasn’t messy with more clashes of teeth and clumsy tongues, a complete turmoil of mistakes and regrets. Then he remembered it was Oikawa and Iwaizumi. Hajime and Tooru. Everything had always been so easy with them. </p><p>Maybe that would change, but neither wanted to dwell on that. Instead, they obsessively and endlessly, with a maddening longing, leaned into each other, knowing that they will fall further until they are invincible and ethereal and <i>weak</i>, still and all. </p><p>“Why didn’t you tell me?” Oikawa says, his voice so light that Iwaizumi could mistake it for a divine being. </p><p>“What, and risk losing you?” </p><p>“You wouldn’t have lost me,” he laughs, though there’s something in the noise, maybe staggering affection. “You continue to surprise me, Iwa-chan, I did not take you for a sap.”  </p><p>“I’m not. I just…” Iwaizumi inhaled, staring straight ahead. “I’ve been watching you for all these years, dating and dropping these girls like you had no ounce of care for them. It was painful to watch, and I didn’t think I could handle that.” </p><p> “They were just a distraction, speaking frankly.” Oikawa tightened his grip. “Plus, I liked that fuming stare of jealousy you always gave me, even when you believed you were being subtle.” </p><p>“Fuck you,” Iwaizumi said. The malice intended didn’t seep out with it. “You knew, and you continued to torment me.” </p><p>“In my defence, I only figured out you liked me in, like, February! If anything, it was just a helpful push into realising you’re in love with me.” </p><p>Iwaizumi choked on his breath, letting go of Oikawa to double over and unclog his throat of the sudden statement. Oikawa flustered and smacked his hand between his shoulder blades slightly too hard in an attempt to help, spitting out <i>Iwa-chan’s</i> and unhelpful advice.</p><p><i>Love</i>. It was the word Iwaizumi hadn’t come to terms with. He spent years overthinking the word, especially when he realised his need for Oikawa to be near him no longer stood as platonic, and when he’d ricochet between certainties and doubts of liking boys, that he was even allowed to, Oikawa was the first thought that ever existed in his mind. </p><p>He didn’t know what it meant, and he certainly doesn’t now. But holding hands, feeling this genuine comfort and effortless affinity, made him feel that less bit hollow, sensing the darkness behind his eyes slowly fade to this blinding light that he doesn’t mind that much. Oikawa really was that missing limb that found his home again, by his side, in his hand. </p><p>He couldn’t find the lies to say he wasn’t in love with Oikawa, because he didn’t know. The compromise to say that he did doesn’t exist either, and he hated how all he could do is stare at Oikawa as if he’d never even thought about it, opening his mouth around words he can’t comprehend. </p><p>Maybe the feeling in his chest had always been love, had always utterly been Oikawa. Whatever it was - it was everything. </p><p>“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said softly, hanging off his arm when he eventually managed to straighten and breathe. He noticed the familiar stone walls and wooden door of Oikawa’s home, noting the disappointment in his stomach at the impending departure. “Stop thinking. You don’t have to say anything.” </p><p>“But…” </p><p>Oikawa smiled, planting his chin on his shoulder and pinched Iwaizumi’s pointed chin to turn his head. They kissed softly, and it felt so much more meaningful than words. Iwaizumi’s eyes fluttered closed and swallowed the struggling words. Oikawa was right. He was far too overwhelmed. </p><p>In all honesty, it was still so outlandishly foreign to be kissing Oikawa, when hours ago they were friends playing on a volleyball court, Oikawa hollowly throwing insults at Iwaizumi half-assed serves, ignorant to the possibility they will be avowing their pent up sentiments mere hours later.</p><p>“This is enough,” he whispered on Iwaizumi’s lips as he pulled back. “I’m still annoyed you waited this long though. I could’ve been wasting my time kissing you instead of on those awful dates.” </p><p>“Ah ah, this isn’t just my fault.” </p><p>“But it would have been boring for me to confess first.” </p><p>“At least you had the comfort of knowing I’d probably like you back! I had nothing.”</p><p>“It isn’t a competition, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa tuts, lifting his head from his shoulder. “But, you do have to make it official now.” </p><p>Iwaizumi pinched Oikawa’s side, where somehow his hand had ended up, and Oikawa squirmed back into Iwaizumi’s embrace. “What does that mean?” </p><p>“Ask me the question,” Oikawa dimly says, like Iwaizumi would understand. </p><p>Iwaizumi pulled away and raised an eyebrow, fingers barely grazing the covered small of Oikawa’s back. </p><p>“Why is it you I had to be attracted to?” he sighed. “You’re my boyfriend now.” </p><p>“Oh,” was all Iwaizumi could say. In all honesty, Iwaizumi doesn’t register it properly. It never crossed his mind that he’d be bold enough to even admit to liking Oikawa, let alone venture into a relationship with him. He wished it was raining, or the wind was particularly violent so it could drown out the loud pounding of his heart. “Am I your first?” </p><p>Oikawa’s face filled with surprise. Then he hummed, gently and certain. </p><p>“So...all those…” </p><p>“They didn’t matter.” </p><p>Iwaizumi’s throat feels very thick, pounding, as if his heart was sitting on the back of his tongue. The dimmed light from surrounding houses and the moon didn’t offer all that much, but he can imagine the rivaling pink covering Oikawa’s cheeks and ear, hidden by the lovely curves of his lips.</p><p>Nonetheless, that ache, that beautiful, warm ache he only ever feels around Oikawa exploded within him again. This unacknowledged pining strikes him hard, and it dawns on him that Oikawa’s evasion of Iwaizumi these past months could have simply been Oikawa avoiding his feelings. Iwaizumi cannot be mad, for he was the same. The regret remains heavy, yet the awareness of Oikawa’s reciprocation is a good enough start to diminishing it. </p><p>This time, Iwaizumi buries his head into Oikawa’s shoulder to hide the inundation of relief that ravages him. He breathes in the scent of his fancy aftershave, not missing the splash of sweetness, of jasmine and fabric softener, that lingers on his neck. They stand in silence as Iwaizumi just takes Oikawa in, the reserved nature of him, the tenderness that settles in his limbs. His hand doesn’t leave Iwaizumi, and he finds it so amazingly intense that he doesn’t want Oikawa to never not touch him. </p><p>“It’s snowing, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa mumbles, startling Iwaizumi from his moment. Oikawa is looking above, at the very few white flakes floating down. One settled on Oikawa’s cheek.</p><p>Iwaizumi reached out and thumbed it off, leaving his palm resting against his skin. He really doesn’t want to leave. He wants to make up for the misspent time. </p><p>“Thank you,” he admits, “for bringing me out tonight. Sorry for complaining the whole time.” </p><p>“Of course. Besides, I think it was worth it.” </p><p>Iwaizumi hums. “I suppose.” He looks around, at the shadows hiding behind the blinds in his house, narrowing his eyes. Oikawa grabs his chin to retain his attention, sucking in his bottom lip. </p><p>“I’m over here,” he whispers, in that sickenly dreamy voice Iwaizumi can now react to. </p><p>“You should go. Make sure you actually sleep tonight.” </p><p>“I think I’d rather kiss my boyfriend,” Oikawa purrs. </p><p>Iwaizumi’s chest tightens. “I’m being serious.”</p><p>“Me too.” </p><p>“I think you’re already more annoying than before. How can I take back a kiss?” </p><p>Oikawa smiles and leans to kiss Iwaizumi’s reddening cheeks. “You can’t. Don’t forget about me in the morning, Iwa-chan!” </p><p>He’s swift, but Oikawa’s hands aren’t willing to leave Iwaizumi’s body. There’s an unspoken fear between the two that doesn’t want to leave - they don’t want to leave. They’re so full with this newfound fondness, one that’s indisputably far too late, and all that they both want is to fall asleep in each other's arms and warmth, smiling under the stars. </p><p>Eventually Oikawa parts with a pout, only a second after he made an effort to detach from Iwaizumi. He watches Iwaizumi over his shoulder as he walks along the path leading to his home. Iwaizumi stands and waits until he sneaks in quietly, </p><p>When Oikawa is gone, he turns to touch his lips where a smile has grown. </p><p>As he walks home, he continues to repent for all the times he had the chance to confess, to kiss Oikawa’s welcoming lips, to hold his cold hands and warm them up with own. It’s annoying that he waited until the final year of being together to say anything, engulfed with the imminent knowledge that they’re both leaving for university within the next upcoming months. </p><p>But he’s here now, and Oikawa is here, and the stars are bright above him, and all he can think about is how perfect everything is. The warm hazy weariness overwhelms him. He has never felt this fulfillment lingering in his chest for this long, nor has he been more than certain he wouldn’t mind spending the rest of his life with a certain Tooru Oikawa. They’ve lasted long enough, what’s eighty more years? </p><p>His trainers softly tread along the path, and he looks up into the sky that remains as a constant reminder of Oikawa. It’s able to faintly fill the deepening cavity next to him, the fresh withdrawal of Oikawa making him yearn for his permanence by his side. A star blinks, and glides across the sky, and Iwaizumi has to laugh. </p><p>Thinking to himself, there’s only one wish, as it always has been. </p><p>
  <i>To be with Oikawa. Whatever happens.</i>
</p><p>And for the first time, he craved for that damn shooting star.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hello! </p><p>i've been writing, completely self-indulgent, hq!! for almost a year now and decided that, yeah, maybe i should start posting my stuff. </p><p>i'm nervous to publicise my writing, so it would be nice to hear what you thought, whether it be here or over on <a href="https://twitter.com/hajimiis">my twitter</a> that i want to bring back to life :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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